


Summer of Brock

by Prurient



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Firsts, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Seduction, Sexual Content, Smut, Summer Romance, Teen Romance, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 15:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8629105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prurient/pseuds/Prurient
Summary: It's a long, hot summer, and Triana plots to seduce that muscular hunk, Brock Samson. When she finds his apartment unlocked, Triana can't resist the urge to sneak in and look around. Brock arrives home, and one thing leads to another...





	1. Chapter 1

  

"Uhh, hey Triana!" Dean squeaked, blushing profusely under his red freckles. "Whatcha doin in the bushes?" 

Hiding my phone and brushing mulch off my knee socks, I stood up stiffly and improvised, "Oh, just looking for Simba. I think she got freaked out by Dad's latest voodoo and ran off." 

"Golly!" Dean blurted out. "you want me to help find her? Me and Hank are great at finding lost pets! We tracked down Scamp loads of times! Until pop started usin him to test ladies' makeup..." Lowering his eyes, Dean scuffed forlornly at the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. 

"Sure," I quickly replied, "I've been checking this side of the compound... maybe you and Hank can take the back?" 

"You betcha!" Dean piped back, with a goofy salute. 

Kneeling safely back out of view, and watching him speed away on his hover bike, I felt kind of bad for sending them on a wild goose chase, but not _too_ bad - Dean was sweet, but Hank could be SO annoying, and they seemed to like having something to do. Plus, I wanted to get back to watching Brock.

Mmmm, Brock. He was scrubbing down the jet's silver sides, and looked incredible, like a tan, cigar-smoking Hulk, smoke pluming around those long, touchable blond curls... and despite myself, I did admire his style - you had to be a fucking badass to pull off those cutoffs with that mullet. And Brock was insanely badass. God, I was getting wetter than the X1 just watching his rippling muscles, and I couldn't resist rubbing my pussy through my black jersey skirt and thin cotton panties, imagining Brock holding me down in the dirt.

To me, that hot summer, Brock was an obsession. There was never anything to do at the compound, Kim was away for the summer, and Dean's awkwardly breathy flirtations were starting to embarrass me - he was like the king of _fremdscham_. So I spent hours every day smoking cloves, following Brock around, and then masturbating in my room to fantasies of Brock doing me in every conceivable position. Most of my fantasies were like a weird 70s porno, prominently starring Brock's mullet, where I had great bangs and a lacy lilac push-up bra, and got fucked hard in soft focus on 16 mm. _Mmm, please don't, Mister Samson, that'll never fit!_ There was lots of cheesy dialogue.

At first, I'd been content just to ogle him from afar. But I was getting really tired of make-believe, and I started trying to scam some way into Brock's pants. I knew Brock thought I was hot, I liked the way his eyes lingered on me just a little too long, and he'd flirted with me a few times, but he never crossed the line. And there was the whole "jailbait" thing. I didn't totally understand exactly what kind of organization O.S.I. was, but it was clearly some kind of paramilitary thing, and working for the government seemed to imply he _might_ have some foibles about fucking his 16-year-old neighbor. So I wracked my brains trying to think of ways to appeal to his... baser instincts.

This was unfortunately during the period when I was terrified of going into my literal hellhole of a closet, so I didn't have a lot in the way of sexy clothing options, but I made liberal use of the few tops and miniskirts Kim had left behind (part of a look she liked to call "slut goth"). I didn't fill out the tops as well as her, but I liked how perky my tits looked under the tight fabric. Brock seemed determined to ignore me, however, and it became like a game - just how egregiously could I provoke this man without any response?? I did a lot of panty-flashing, bending over to "pick up things I'd dropped," but he barely seemed to notice me as he went about his work-out routine. After a week and a half without a response, I decided to stop wearing panties. I was pretty sure I noticed an answering bulge in his pants, but he never dropped his poker face. I was starting to get frustrated by Brock's aloofness - he really seemed to pride himself on keeping things "professional" at work - and I decided I needed a change in tactics.

It didn't take long for me to get my opportunity. That Friday was the hottest day of the summer, and the humidity was unbearable - the air was thick and wet, and I was soaked with sweat just from walking across the compound. I had to get inside and cool off, but the thought of being cooped up at home with dad's cronies - the so-called _Order of the Triad_ \- made me gag. As I stood in the shade of a nearby stairwell and tried to decide what to do, I realized with a thrill that I had somehow ended up at Brock's place. Oh my god, and the door was unlocked. I was pretty sure that Brock would flip out if he found anyone in his room - it wasn't that long ago that the Ventures had torn it apart looking for the orb, and the guy really seemed to like his space - but Brock wouldn't be back for hours, and I couldn't resist the chance to do a little snooping. And I *was* really thirsty...

Pushing inside, I breathed a sigh of relief at the gust of cool air, and immediately peeled off my sticky t-shirt, skirt, and socks. (Why wasn't our side of the compound air conditioned?? Ugh, Dr. Venture was so cheap!) The place looked as I had remembered - super 70s shag carpet, minimal furnishings, ashtrays full of stubbed out Marlboros, scattered Led Zeppelin records, and a dartboard which currently had a giant knife stuck in the bullseye. Hot. A dingy fridge had been crammed into the tiny kitchen, and contained only a bottle of yellow mustard, a suspicious-looking carton of takeout, and two 24-packs of High Life. I helped myself to a couple cans as I continued to prowl around in my underwear, touching Brock's stuff, enjoying the feeling of the thick plush on my feet. The unmade bed beckoned me irresistibly, and as I rolled in the cool sheets, I felt drunk on Brock's smell.

What time was it anyway? Almost 3, by the glow of my phone in Brock's cave of a room. So I still had a couple hours to kill before Brock got home. I looked at my heap of crumpled clothes with disgust - wearing the same outfit for weeks was bad enough, but now that they were all sweaty, I did _not_ want to put them back on. At least, not without a shower.

Getting to my feet somewhat unsteadily - wow, I was becoming a lightweight without Kim around - I padded to the bathroom. Which was filthy - curly hairs and dust covered the sink, the floor was probably white tile (though it was hard to tell), a musty smelling rag of towel was slung over a metal rack - God, men are gross!! Picking my way through the filth, I stopped to catch sight of myself in the mirror, and smiled despite myself. I looked really good. Slim by nature, my black cheeky boyshorts rode low enough on my narrow hips to expose the barest hint of my ass. My hair - black with hints of purple - was slightly tousled from rolling in Brock's bed, and the temporary tattoo (a pink rose) I'd ironically slapped on my right thigh looked pretty damn sexy. I tried a seductive wink on my reflection, and tried to picture Brock's reaction if he walked in right now. Would he still be able to resist me like this? Unhooking my black bra and dropping it on the dingy bathmat (cleaner than the floor, I hoped) - I doubted it. My breasts were definitely one of my best features - small but supple, with pink, slightly puffy nipples - I felt myself growing damp as I imagined Brock's large, rough hands brushing against them. 

Turning on the shower, I couldn't help bragging a bit to Kim.

  

I grinned, picturing her shocked face, and set my phone down on the bathmat to concentrate on enjoying the shower. The cool water felt so good against my still too-warm skin, and I tipped my face into the rushing water, relishing the buzz I had on. Soaping up my skinny waist and torso, eyes closed, I pictured Brock's hands sliding between my thighs. Turning up the heat and pressing myself against the shower wall, I played with the sensitive curves of my pussy from behind, and slid a finger inside, then another, spreading them apart as Kim had done one drunken night, imagining breathily what it would be like to be opened up by Brock. I considered making myself cum with the shower head - it was the same kind we had in our bathroom at home, and it always did the trick - but I realized that this time, I wasn't going to be satisfied by anything less than the real thing. My desire to get caught by Brock, hidden in the back of my mind since I had arrived, was suddenly out in the open - I had no intention of sneaking out before he got home. This time, he would have to deal with me, wet, warm, eager.


	2. Chapter 2

Climbing out of the shower onto the already-slightly damp bathmat (ew), I turned on the bathroom fan and checked my appearance again. My heart was starting to pound, knowing Brock would be getting home shortly, but I was relieved to see that my makeup still looked good, despite the dowsing. If anything, the slightly blurred mascara was kind of sexy - or so I'd heard from a guy I'd fooled around with at a local pool earlier that summer, who said it looked "hot, like when chicks cry in porn." Kind of creepy maybe, but I hoped Brock agreed. I admired my perky breasts in the dirty mirror as I brushed out my hair with a red plastic comb I found on the counter, and quickly swished with mouthwash. I decided after a moment of deliberation to put my knee socks and skirt back on... I wanted Brock to have something to take off me.

Back in the living room/bedroom, I draped myself seductively over Brock's bed, but I was too nervous, and kept fidgeting, trying to find the most flattering angle. A bottle of Jack Daniels on the dresser caught my eye, and I gratefully took a few swigs, shuddering at the fiery taste, hoping to steady my nerves. Leaning back, I closed my eyes, and savored the warmth and sense of ease that spread through my insides as the liquor kicked in.

It was like that, head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, bare breasts arched upwards, that Brock found me when he walked in a moment later.

"Ah, what the hell," Brock growled as he walked in, and I opened my eyes with a mischievous smile. 

"Hey Brock," I murmured, thrilled to see the telltale swelling in those damn cutoffs. 

"Nah," Brock growled. "C'mon kid, put your shirt back on and get out of here." Disappearing into the kitchen and reemerging with a beer in hand, he plopped down on the couch, and as he cracked it open and took a long swig, grouchily added in that deep husky voice, "It's been a long day, I can't deal with this." 

Sauntering over toward him, I pouted my lips, and teased, "I can't go home now, Brock, I've been drinking! What _would_ my dad say if I came home from your place reeking of booze?" 

Brock snorted, "Don't bullshit me, kid," but he continued to drink his beer and stare openly at my tits with those icy blue eyes, so I slowly took a few steps closer.

Focusing on Brock's grizzled chin as I closed the last steps between us, I felt giddy and flushed with booze, heat, and anticipation. Despite his earlier complaints, Brock stayed put as I clambered up awkwardly onto his lap. Spreading my legs on either side of his hairy, muscular thighs, I heard his breath quicken at the flash of my shaved pussy. 

"Damn," he muttered quietly. Suddenly decisive, Brock gulped the last of his beer and crushed the can in his massive mitt before chucking it away, then pulled me against him roughly. I pressed my mouth hungrily into his, allowing his stubble to scratch against the delicate skin of my chin and cheeks, and was startled by the ferocity of his kiss. A sharp pain flooded me as he bit down on my lower lip, but my moan was smothered by his powerful tongue thrusting deep into my mouth. 

Being on top of the great Brock Samson, smelling his sweat and the masculine gust of cigarettes and beer, was making me dripping wet, and I ground desperately against his cock through the rough fabric of his jeans. As Brock groped my bare breasts, the way his warm, calloused hands chafed against my nipples was even hotter than I'd imagined.

I fumbled awkwardly with his zipper for a couple seconds before he smoothly brushed my hand aside, unzipped, and withdrew his throbbing dick, all in a single practiced motion. Holy fuck, his cock was enormous. As thick as my arm, the swollen head purple and shiny, it quivered over his curly blond pubes like some sort of one-eyed serpent monster my dad might have summoned. Enjoying the image of myself as the sultry snake charmer, scantily clad in a see-through purple veil and bikini, I leaned forward, stretching my mouth wide, to see about taming that snake.

I'd sucked plenty of dick before, but they'd all been high school guys - football players a few years older and bristling with testosterone, skater dudes with big balls who wanted to get high first, a hung metalhead who liked to hook up under the stairs outside the band room between sets. None of them had been anything like this. My jaw began to get sore after only a few minutes, and I thought I would asphyxiate when I tried to take him down my throat. Brock might have been being gentle with me - he didn't force my head down or buck too much - but the sheer size of his cock was testing me, and I was so turned on I felt delirious.

Determined to keep going, I forced myself to bob up and down on his massive cock, watching as my spit dripped and pooled in the curls of his pubes. Brock's eyes were closed, and his square jaw tensed as I licked the length of his shaft. "They teach you _that_ in high school?!" he drawled wryly. 

After a minute, he slid his hand under my skirt, and I moaned uncontrollably against his cock as he rubbed my soaking pussy and worked his fingers inside of me. "You're ah - pretty tight," he drawled, "you sure you want to do this?"

Pulling away and wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I raised my ass up and positioned myself above the gleaming head of his cock. "Whoa there," Brock exclaimed, grabbing me swiftly by both wrists, "condom??" 

"I'm on the pill," I replied, a little tartly, and sank down slowly onto his shaft, electrified by the feeling of his naked cock filling up my dripping cunt. Brock started to move, however, and I gasped at the pain which threatened to tear me apart. 

Stopping immediately and running a hand agitatedly through his mane, Brock burst out, "God DAMN it, Triana. Are you a virgin? Come on! This ain't right, I can't do this." 

Clinging to his chest, I moaned into his neck, "shut- shut up. You don't need to do anything." Raising myself up and very, very slowly lowering myself down again, I moaned, "Nnnnn, just hold still. Let me do it."

Brock held still as I doggedly tried to work his cock deeper inside me, but it was just too much. After a couple minutes of being patient with "just the tip," he took control. 

"Not like that, kid," he drawled, easily lifting me off him and plonking me down on the bed, where I surreptitiously rubbed my aching tummy. "C'mon, if you wanna do this, let's do it right." Grabbing the Jack off the shelf, he knocked back a few gulps, then passed it to me. Peeling off his wifebeater, Brock stood over me, watching me and stroking his cock. 

I ogled his flexing arm muscles as I took a few swigs, and felt another wave of desire surge inside me. 

"A little more," he urged, still pumping his cock, and I took another gulp. "Good." Stacking up his pillows on the edge of his bed, Brock said, "now, take off your skirt, and c'mere and lean forward over this pile, that's gonna be easier for you to take." 

I flushed, embarrassed and turned on by the idea taking such a revealing, submissive position. As I silently obeyed, I felt grateful as the liquor again spread through my body, and my muscles began to relax.


	3. Chapter 3

Brock whistled at the sight of my round ass pointed up at him, and gave it an appreciative slap, laughing when I cried out. Grabbing a bottle out of his bedside table, he continued, "Now ah, you're already pretty damn wet, but I'm still gonna use lube." I squirmed as he slid cold fingers inside me, and he laughed again, continuing, "It's gonna hurt at first, but it'll start to feel good, so hang in there, okay?" 

"Uh-huh," I murmured, and took a deep breath.

"That's it, nice and easy," Brock drawled, and I breathed deeply, smelling his musky smell as I pressed my nose into his sheets, and tried my best to take his massive cock inside me. The lube and liquor helped, and I wriggled a bit so I could play with my clit, focusing on the pleasure and tuning out the pain as he slowly thrust in and pulled out. 

"That's good, babe," he breathed, and I felt myself opening more at the arousal I heard in his voice. 

After a couple minutes that felt like an eternity, my heart lifted as the pain morphed from sharp to dull, then gradually shifted to definite pleasure. _M-m-m-mister Samson!_ I gasped in my mind, and felt my lips curl into a smile as my fantasies became real, finally able to enjoy Brock fucking me.

"Ah, my god, you're so tight," Brock groaned loudly, giving my ass a squeeze with one giant fist as he thrust all the way in. 

I grinned to myself, then murmured, "hang on, I wanna see you." Pulling away and pushing myself up on my knees, I took another couple gulps of whiskey, watching Brock as I drank. My guts fluttered and my pussy clenched as I ran my eyes over him - ripped from head to toe, his muscles gleamed with a faint sheen of sweat. His cock glistened with lube, and what I realized with some embarrassment were my own juices. 

His piercing blue eyes were making me a little shy, and I blushed hotly when he drawled amusedly, "ya like what you see?" 

"Mmhm," I murmured, pushing the pillows onto the floor and lying back onto the sheet, spreading my legs wide apart - "do you?"

"Nghh," Brock grunted, and advanced toward my prone figure like a panther stalking its prey. He slapped more lube on his giant member, but this time it wasn't necessary - I was drunk, wildly horny, and spread eagle, and I scooted into him eagerly as he slid inside. "Ah, fuck," Brock grunted to himself, and he began to pound me faster and more rhythmically. 

I continued to rub my clit, and stared somewhat bewildered at the giant bulge pressing up out of my tummy - it was hard to believe that something so huge was actually inside me, pressing up on me from the inside. I tried to put the scene from _Alien_ out of my mind.

It was easy to forget - each pummeling thrust of Brock's cock seemed to drive all thoughts from my mind, and I forgot to be embarrassed as my mouth hung open and my moans grew louder. Senseless, I bit Brock's neck, clawed at his back, and pinched his nipples, scarcely knowing what I was doing, driven wild by his responsive moans. I continued to rub my clit furiously as he pumped inside of me, and lost all awareness of time and space as I felt myself getting ready to cum.

I was completely shocked, therefore, when Brock suddenly pulled out and pushed me backwards on the bed, forcefully pulling my legs apart and driving his grizzled face between my thighs. I was too dazed to be self-conscious, and as he furiously lapped at my clit and pumped his long, muscular tongue into my dripping pussy, I pulled his face into my mound and babbled needily to _please please keep going, don't stop, don't stop._ The mounting pleasure as I approached orgasm was almost unbearable - a tidal wave that grew and grew til it threatened to drown me, and it wasn't til after I had climaxed and was trembling in the cascading overmath that I realized I had been screaming his name. "Oh my god," I finally managed to mumble. "Oh my god - that was, incredible."

Brock grinned, wiping his mouth, and got up on his knees again. "Wait, wait -" I exclaimed, suddenly alarmed, as I realized what he had in mind, but he was already thrusting inside me again. I squirmed uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the sensation of his massive girth inside my sore and unbearably sensitive pussy, but if Brock heard me, he wasn't listening. 

"Yeah baby, that's it," he murmured, eyes clenched, as he mercilessly pounded my aching cunt. 

I tried to clench my pussy and my thighs to keep him from driving all the way in, to protect myself as much as I could, but my legs trembled weakly from orgasming, so eventually I gave in and let him slam into me as hard as he wanted. As I became accustomed to the sensation, I discovered I could stand it after all, and I definitely enjoyed the lustful expressions Brock was making as he used my body to make himself cum.

"Nnghh yes," Brock moaned hungrily, "cmon baby - come up here - swallow my cum." I was weak as a kitten from the insane pounding I'd taken, but I felt myself grow wet again at the thought of sucking Brock's cock, so I struggled to my knees and crawled over to kneel between his legs as he lay back on the bed. "Ah - that's it," he breathed, as I tucked a purple strand of hair behind my ear and lowered my warm, wet mouth onto his pulsating cock. "You like the way you taste?" he teased huskily, and I blushed despite myself. 

"Mmhmm," I murmured into his cock, and slowly licked up all of my tart cum. 

"Nnngh," Brock groaned, then waved me away.

Getting up from the bed, he motioned for me to kneel at his feet as he stood above me. I pulled one of the pillows over and knelt on it, then stifled a gag as he began fucking the back of my throat. After a moment, he pulled out, and stared at me intently with those cold blue eyes. "You like that?" he asked. 

"Uh-huh," I murmured. 

"What's that?" he demanded sternly. 

"Yes!" I replied. 

"You want more?" he asked, cradling my chin in his hand. 

"Mmhmm," I nodded vigorously, then obediently clarified, "Yes." 

This time, as I opened my mouth, Brock tipped my head back, then thrust his cock deep, deep down, past the flap, and fucked my throat. My eyes widened in surprise - I had thought I'd "deep-throated" before, but this was a totally new experience. As I knelt, pinned down by his thrusting cock, the intensity of his gaze made me feel as if I was melting, and I felt myself literally dripping on the carpet with arousal.

"That's a good girl," Brock murmured huskily, and I thrilled at his praise. "Ahh - ahh - I'm gonna cum," he huffed, fucking my throat roughly, as tears rolled down my cheeks, and I rubbed my tingling pussy. "Ahh, goddd!" he cried out, and pulled out swiftly, using his massive right hand to pump while he sprayed hot jizz across my mouth, face, and tits. "Fuck, Triana!" he exclaimed, and fell backwards onto the bed, sighing contentedly. I leaned over to lick a last drop of cum from the tip of his cock, and smiled at his answering shiver.

Heading into the bathroom to clean up, I grinned at my reflection - my hair was tousled, my lips were swollen, there was a hickey on my left breast, and I was covered in cum, but I had never looked more beautiful. Stepping into the shower, I felt jubilant - I had seduced the great Brock Samson, at last. I couldn't wait to text Kim.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a new writer and this is my second attempt at smut so I really welcome feedback in the comments, thank you!!


End file.
